


Scars and Dices

by kaiyak



Category: ATEEZ (Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Apocalypse, Blood, Car Chases, Crimes & Criminals, Double Life, Drama, Dystopia, Explicit Language, Fantasy, Fights, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Gang AU, Gangs, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Magic, Modern Royalty, Mystery, No Smut, Police, Politics, Romance, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Somewhat??, Street Racing, Supernatural Elements, Technology, Torture, Tragedy, Violence, a bit but still there, been plotting since july hehe, gonna add more tags as we go ;), how the hell do i tag, let's just say there's a lot planned for this fic lol, listen it's gonna be a long ass ride, more characters to be added! expect ateez hehe, okay just a little don't be scared, rich/poor, scientific experiments, tons of it duh it's mainly gang au lol, tw: torture, weird technology terms that do not exist in real life lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiyak/pseuds/kaiyak
Summary: Seo Changbin's sole purpose of life was to illegally ride the streets of the Han oxit's ghost towns in luxurious cars, to get multiple grand prizes every few nights, to transform them all into tainted money bills and give them back to the poorer, violence-powered districts of his gang's hometown, Seoul.No way in Hell was he planning to take part of the stupid war that, for almost thirty years already, was gradually destroying their world and extinguishing the only two remaining viable countries of this damned planet, Asianaion and Oceatralia.That was his ultimate promise to himself, until he came across Lee Felix, the captivating, magnificent, broken weapon of war and piece of art who had been crafted by the enemies themselves.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42





	1. 0. Sleepless Nights, Purple Lights

**Author's Note:**

> TW: TORTURE/VIOLENCE  
> EXPLICIT for language, violence, crimes.
> 
> welcome to this.. mess! (there's no other way i can name this long ass ride of a fic tbh - it sure will have plotholes smh - )  
> i usually write novels in these notes but this time i'll try to be brief and straight to the point lol  
> so, one day at the end of july, i was at work, you know, like usual, cleaning the dishes and suddenly... changlix + car chases just flashed in my mind and i just h a d t o (blame maze of memories). listen. there's a lot of great skz fics out there but seriously, this fanfic fandom is missing a lot of things (LIKE CAR RACES) so instead of writing a basic and simplistic chat fic here i am bringing the drama, the sadness and the tragedies :)  
> obviously, as you can tell from the number of tags, this fic is a mix of pretty much everything i love: gang au, dystopian au, supernatural au and sci-fi au lmao. it's p a c k e d.  
> every chapter will be divided in two. the first part will be changbin's point of view, whereas the second one will be lix's. (at least for now *eye emoji*)  
> it might be hard to understand this prologue considering it's hard to see where i am going with this but please just give it a chance (i tried keeping the mysteries secret and i tried writing this as if it were a book) ;; i planned a lot of things for this fic hehe  
> i don't wanna spoil anything so here we go! please enjoy!  
> oh, one last thing! there will be a little glossary in the end notes to clarify the vocabulary of the fic (because it's a future dystopian au, there's a lot of new technology/new terms used ^^)  
> if you'd like to, please visit the playlist i created [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLahnHhxmqMoH-AESwWGTt23feyTXc8JVE) for this fic (i'd suggest listening either to the first part of the list for the first few chapters - although i have to say i listened to it randomly while writing lol)  
> thank you for giving this mess of a fanfic a chance! :3

**Sleepless Nights, Purple Lights**

**Asianaion**

The sound of the usual, repetitive sirens echoed on the walls of the decrepit room, blaring impossibly loud in the city’s heart, panic, danger and trouble awakening the neighborhood.

Changbin rolled his eyes, tugging on his beanie while sighing with resignation, the dark, itchy material of the accessory barely hiding his ears. He shuffled around, avoiding the empty coffee cups that were loitering the ground, whispering to himself under his breath, the insistent noise following him like heavy, inevitable shadows. He reached the desk and put on his square glasses, squinting his eyes through the veil of darkness that covered the apartment. He double-tapped on the right hinge, bright, white and pastel pink lights illuminating his vision, notifications popping up in his field of view.

Minho had sent him three messages, but he ignored them, focused on his task at hand.

Opening the first drawer on his right, Changbin pulled out a little box and put the object on the woodened surface. When he pressed his index finger against the lock, the small chest glowed a soft hue of deep blue before it clicked open, revealing a few bundles of money bills.

Changbin took two of them and hastily stored them in the bag that was still sitting beside the chair, closing the lid of the box. He moved to the ‘kitchen’, preparing a bottle of water, his contemplative thoughts brought to an abrupt stop in their tracks at the sound of the ringtone.

_Lee Minho is calling. Would you like to—_

“Argh, accept the call,” Changbin commanded, coughing and clearing his throat, his voice low and tired.

He mentally counted to three, inhaled, and waited for the bomb to drop, a drop of water hitting the bottom of the sink.

“ _Yah, Seo Changbin_!”

He scrunched his nose up, his ears ringing.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Look, Minho—”

“ _I can’t_ believe _you’ve ghosted me! Why haven’t you arrived yet? What the heck is going on? Fuck, those sirens, I swear, they’re going to make me deaf, someday_ ,” the elder huffed indignantly.

Changbin faintly grumbled, annoyance making his shoulders tense. Minho was highly worried; nothing new.

“Sorry, hyung. I woke up a few minutes ago,” he admitted with sincerity. “I’m almost ready. Two works, right?”

“ _Two is perfect. The pills you won last time nearly transformed you into a millionaire,”_ Minho scoffed, the motor of a powerful car reverberating in the receiver. “ _Don’t forget to hide the pair of glasslights I gave you_. _There are a lot of nighthawks tonight_ , _and we don’t want you to get caught._ ”

“They’re probably filling their quotas. It’s the end of November, after all,” he mumbled aloud then frowned, pensive. “Besides, 'Joongie wouldn’t put me in jail. He knows Chan would die of anxiety.”

Minho tsked, then hissed, the traces of his sinister smile audible through his tone.

“ _Hongjoong can’t do his job properly_ because _of Chan_. _If the NAA were to find out that he is affiliated to the leader of an illegal group full of criminals_ —”

“The NAA is corrupted, just like every single thing that surrounds us, Minho hyung.”

The sirens drastically ceased their ugly cries, the following silence making Changbin’s heart pick up a trepid rhythm, stress settling in his stomach, fear putting his veins on fire. Apprehension pulsated under his flesh, making his fingers tremble uncontrollably.

He hurriedly filled the bottle before putting on the cap and twisting it, only noticing the presence of the minuscule ‘ _5_ ’ written on the sink while throwing the flask in his bag.

 _Shit_. _Only five litters left_. _How many days—_

“ _Whatever_ ,” Minho said, breaking him free of his torpor. “ _It’s not like we can do something about that issue. But we can help the others, so why don’t you get your ass over here already_?”

“Fine, fine, I’m almost there.”

“ _Oh, and don’t forget_ —”

“No, I won’t, hyung,” Changbin exhaled with exhaustion, “see you, Minho hyung. End the call.”

“ _Yah_ —"

 _Ending the conversation with Lee Minho_.

He took the glasslights off, bending the branches and putting the device in his pants’ right pocket, praying the piece of technology would not break at any impact or action. To ensure protection, he tugged on the end of his black sweater, camouflaging his waist in a subtle manner, the sleeves loosely wrapped around his fingers. Changbin verified he had his identity cards and put the bag on his shoulders, grasping his keys with the end of his nails, getting lost in thought once again while locking the door of his residence and going down the stairs two by two.

_I won’t ever take part of this stupid war._

The nighthawk who was guarding the building was impossibly tall, his shadow engulfing Changbin, strangling him by softly pressing its claws against his jugular. He gulped, twirling the keychains in his palm as a distraction.

“Reason of depart,” the intimidating man demanded, and Changbin shivered at the cutting severity of his voice, shamefully horrified.

He remained impassive, his eyelids hooded as to look bored out of his mind.

“I’m going to Gangnam with a friend. We will visit my paternal grandmother. She is very ill.”

 _Please don’t ask for an analysis, please don’t ask for an_ —

“The curfew is at two o’clock on Mondays. Have a nice evening.”

 _Poker face_ , Changbin reminded himself, hope making his heart thump louder against the crown of bones that caged it.

_Careful. They can read your transmissions. They can hear you._

“Thank you, you too,” he muttered under his breath, bowing low to demonstrate immense respect.

He fled the cursed place without remorse, jogging to the nearest train station under the streetlights, entering the underworld in less than ten minutes. He scanned his skytrain pass on the tint detector and jumped in the wagon, trying to forget the presence of the stinking moldy smell.

Trying to forget the small number crypted in the metal of his kitchen sink.

Trying to forget the existence of nighthawks, of the government, of the conflict.

Trying to forget about the universe.

He shook his head from left to right, firmly hugging his bag, sat on the seat made of cheap velvet.

The bell announced its usual message, and the train awoke from its slumber, automatically going forward at an impressive speed.

Guided by the lulling humming of the electrical vehicle, he put his face against the window, the material ice cold against his pale cheek.

The tall, glowing skyscrapers and purple and aquamarine neon signs of Seoul soon appeared in his field of view, the poorer districts of the capitol of the Han oxit thrumming with life-costing fights under bridges and abandoned buildings.

 _I won’t ever take part of the war_ , Changbin promised to himself. _But I’ll always give my best to help the ones in need_.

\---

**Oceatralia**

Another shock coursed through his entire organism, vibrating purples surrounding him like angry, stubborn molecules of energy, ready to lash out, but tamed by innocence and fear.

 _Unknown enemy_ , his brain cried out, manipulated by his survival instincts and that—

That _thing_ , that _parasite_ —

Felix yelped, his eyes watering, his frame shaking, his heart somersaulting.

_No tears. Stay strong._

He suddenly coughed repetitively, incessant, morbid choking sounds reverberating against the walls of his cage, blood splattered on the glass, dripping down the biting cold surface. He shivered, bile travelling up his oesophagus. He accumulated saliva in his mouth and spit, powered by fatigue, rage, sadness and pain, burning white, gnawing, paralysing pain.

He raised his head, not giving up, not tearing up, red painted across his face. He panted, his eyebrows furrowed, his nose scrunched up, his sharp teeth glinting under the lab lights. His cuffed limbs screamed in agony, sirens going off in his mind, his heart dangerously tip-tapping against his crown of bones.

The old man _dared_ giggling, holding the controller proudly, an evil grin deforming his ugly features. Arms wide open on the sides of his scrawny body, he spun on himself, facing the others.

“It worked! Progress, the impossible, right here, under our eyes!” he proclaimed, hysterical, maniacal.

The workers applauded him, seemingly genuinely satisfied of their hours of research, of their impatience, sweat and tears-driven labor, all for the future.

Hours of torture. For propaganda. For power.

Some of them were hugging each other, translucent tears rolling down their full cheeks.

Hunger truly made people desperate, senseless, selfish. Brainless, apathetic.

They closed their computers, screens shutting off, ink-black darkness engulfing the entirety of the room, safe for the fuming, stray violet sparks that were orbiting around him, the flashing projectors still illuminating him.

Enlightening the work of art, the project, the experiment, the weapon of war that he was, chained to this pathetic prison of glass, tainted by the mesmerising, crimson fluid. A few glints of purple swam through the scarlet ocean, and Felix exhaled, madly shivering, exhausted, frightened, the beast inside him so upset, preparing to attack, to destroy, to _terminate_. _Am I really home_?

They popped the champagne, let the alcohol flow, cheered, and danced in their pristine white coats with happiness around him, their toy, their precious artefact, observing them lifelessly.

Felix wanted to laugh, too, but a wet sob escaped from his parted lips instead, and the spectators stopped in their fabricated ovation, eyeing him carefully, as if terrified they had programmed an anomaly.

 _Rest assured_ , he wished to say, _I cannot control_ it.

 _And I probably never will, since I might become the one controlled by_ it.

_It’s not my fault._

He wailed, snot mixing with salted teardrops and blood.

 _I never wanted_ this, he wanted to cry out, eaten by hopelessness.

They gasped, analysing his every move. His organs jumped, his ears ringing, purple clouding his mind, red blinding his field of view.

Without any warning, out of nowhere, he felt like drowning, like his oxygen had been robbed, and he urgently tried grasping for air, horror seeping into all of the corners of his battered, scarred, sick carcass of a body. A frigid, goose-bump inducing yell came out of his throat, damaging his vocal cords, electricity flowing through his system, the amethyst-hued lights flashing menacingly around his pounding head. He fought against the chains, strongly trashing against the force, screaming, wrestling against the metallic, rusted monster, hitting the round wall with such violence, the witnesses began panicking.

If it weren’t for the pain, the dizziness and the insanity, maybe then, he would have laughed.

“His Majesty, his—his vitals, they’re not normal—”

“Oh my God, his heartrate is way too high! What—”

“What the actual _fuck_? He’s _dying_ —”

“Shut up! All of you, shut your goddamn mouth!” the director roared, stare fixated on Felix, intrigued.

Bizarrely convinced.

And then—

And then, nothing. All of it ended by a snap of fingers. Felix choked, wheezing, breathless, blood dripping from his chapped lips, tears stolen out of his orbs. He had awakened from his frenzy, terribly lost.

One chain, the one previously linking his right wrist to the transparent ceiling, was dangling, his limb free, blood trickling down his forearm. He dry-heaved, shocked, the mirror proposing him his reflection cracked with thousands of small crevices. He looked awfully _rotten_ , his skin disgustingly blue, his pupils blown wide, his irises coloured a deep lilac.

“I think… I think the kontroïd is effective,” the tall, middle-aged man announced solemnly, fascinated, awe-struck, palms on the other side of the glass.

Felix quivered non-stop.

 _Kontroïd_?

_What the—_

“His M-Majesty… Please excuse my rudeness, but you cannot be serious. The test for the drug was planned in two weeks,” a female employee sputtered, concern written all over her livid face.

“I administrated _it_ a few ounces by injecting it through one of the electrical wires which provoke the shocks,” he revealed, shamelessly admitting to dozens of crimes.

Felix tried understanding their gibberish; to no avail. His fingers shaking impossibly fast, he reached for the cutting material that separated him from the _others_ , questioning, wrong, wavery curiosity igniting the cherry-red fire that was gradually spreading through his muscles and bones.

“W-What—” he muttered and, surprised at how tiny, minuscule, _weak_ his voice sounded, he recoiled in the enclosure, defeated.

The employer, the member of the Royal family, glared at him with a mischievous smirk, clasping his hands together, confirming his victory.

Felix gulped, still feeling as if his soul were slowly dying, his aura evaporating, progressively poisoned by dolor. Still innocent. The masses of purple were still circling around him threateningly, buzzing with newfound energy.

“It’s working,” he affirmed, positively nodding, knocking on the freezing façade, mocking Felix while pointing to his own pair of eyes.

Murmurs animated the atmosphere, the researchers and scientists forming groups around the cubicle with maleficent interest. The crowd was here for the grand reveal, for the great show they had invented, piece by piece.

Traumatized, Felix focused on his mirrored self, uncertain at the idea of discovering the hidden truth that the others were so eagerly discussing about, only to have a set of red irises follow him back, the deepness of the colour hypnotizing him, fueling his heart with pure, raw fright.

He silently made eye contact with the grey-haired man, dreading what was up next.

Chuckling confidently, he opened the door, Felix’s eyes widening in a practically comical way.

_Now’s my chance, now’s my chance, I can’t fuck that one up, I need to punch the fuck out of him—_

As he raised his free, empty fist, clenching his teeth with fury, the other looked at him with an accomplished, cynical grin.

“Smile for me, son,” he commanded, his tone low, quiet.

The world stopped turning on its axis, and Felix stiffened, immobile. Conscious of his wants and thoughts, he desperately tried to realise his attack, mentally pulling on his arm, wanting it to destroy that _son of a bitch of a father_ —

Incapable of doing anything, as if manipulated like a puppet, the strings attached to his mouth were pulled, and he lifted his lips, smiling.

Thundering shouts of success rained down on the laboratory.

Perturbed, Felix’s heart dropped low, afraid, without having the capacity to even _do_ something about it.

_There… There is no refuge._

_How long?_

He badly tried closing his mouth, but, paralysed, he kept on seemingly openly smiling, his father looking at him.

“Sleep, now, son. You’ve worked hard,” he directed, and Felix felt dizziness creep on him at a terrifyingly swift pace.

Before he could even fathom the idea of protesting, pools of darkness pulled him down, a mute shriek trapped in between his vocal cords.


	2. 1. Nighthawk Eyes, Secret Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The car in front of their apartment was dormant, Jeongin watching a video with Minho’s glasslights neatly folded on the backseat of the vehicle, his head almost lolling forward, tiredness still hugging him close.
> 
> Changbin smiled sadly, his heartstrings being tugged on.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd here i am! almost exactly one year later! *smiles shyly  
> ...  
> gosh, this REALLY is embarrassing lol  
> some of you might know from my red ribbons update, but yeah, 2020 has been such a mess, i was not able to write for a few months because i lost all inspiration and motivation i previously had at the beginning of the year. it's a long story, and considering i usually write novels in my notes, i could technically mention everything that has happened, but nahhhh it would take too much time and would be a boring story telling session haha xD  
> but yeah. i wasn't feeling that great, in the previous months (and i'm still struggling these days, although things are looking a bit brighter than before)  
> anyways! no, i haven't abandoned this story. at all. actually, i keep thinking about it pretty often. it's my child. it's really important to me, just like red ribbons is, too.  
> so yeah. the semester is almost done, and so since i don't have that many assignments left, i decided to take a day off and to write (and here i am, posting at like 2 am lol). this update definitely is not special or that interesting, but hey, i tried, and i actually really love the dialogues i've written in this chapter (which is rare, cause i'm way more confident about my descriptions)  
> i've also decided to provide smaller updates, more often. so each chapter will be about someone else's point of view (therefore, the next chapter will be about felix's side of the story!!)  
> okay this note is already long enough so long story short: all the new terms/vocab will be in the notes at the end! oh yeah before i go: this chapter was not betaed. my eyes itch so bad lol imma go sleep and maybe recheck everything tomorrow (sorry TwT)  
> thank you so much for the support! thanks a lot for giving this fic a chance, really. if you feel like commenting something, don't be shy!!  
> have fun reading! ^-^

**Nighthawk Eyes, Secret Bites**

**Asianaion**

Changbin coughed in his sweater’s sleeve, his feet crushing the previously pristine white snow, his combat boots stained, dirty, a gust of wind kissing his frigid cheeks and making the strands of his mane untamed and wild, swishing around in all directions.

He groggily grumbled under his breath, inhaling a drag off his cigarette, the nicotine appeasing his nerves. He reached his destination, a few snowflakes tumbling down through the sky and landing on the surrounding grey, decrepit buildings, some of them brushing his shoulders and decorating his strands, a white crown sitting atop his head.

 _I should have worn a beanie and a scarf_ , he mentally reprimanded himself, hunching his back and loudly sighing, staring at the puffs of air he had just produced with wonder, the tips of his ears burning, the branches of the nearing trees cracking, the melody sinister.

 _Hopefully_ , _with that money_ , _they’ll be able to buy some provisions…_

 _Don’t let your thoughts be too loud, or you may be heard, Changbin_ , Minho’s harsh tone resounded, and he bit his tongue, brain blank.

A honk reverberated through the city’s veins, clear as glass, his heart jumping and almost flying out of his ribcage. His shoulders tensed, the reaction instinctual, the alarms of survival still engraved in his brain, ready to cry at any given moment. He revised his field of view just in case, on edge, no croweyes around.

Yet.

The car in front of their apartment was dormant, Jeongin watching a video with Minho’s glasslights neatly folded on the backseat of the vehicle, his head almost lolling forward, tiredness still hugging him close.

Changbin smiled sadly, his heartstrings being tugged on.

He checked his wrist for precautions, the hologramic clock displaying 8:19, the second hand dutifully in its course. Wanting an impressive entrance scene, he opened the house’s door with a precise kick, startled shrieks following suit. The car racer cleared his throat, inhaled with frustration, his eyebrows furrowed, a pout glued to his dry lips. 

“Your brother will be late for school, Leader,” he drawled with his gravelly low, nasal voice flowing towards the interior, mindlessly toying with his lit cigarette in between the index and middle fingers of his right hand. “We wouldn’t want our precious genius to lose his scholarship for being late now, wouldn’t we?” he added, an attempt of a smile on his mouth, his numb fingers clenched in a fist in hopes of not losing too much warmth.

_To no avail._

The cold was unforgiving, mad, biting. And the freezing storms would remain in place for the following months.

“R-Right, my bad,” Chan stammered while coming from the kitchen, jogging right past him, a mop of blond curls forming a bird nest atop his head, army-green jacket haphazardly thrown on his shoulders, keys harmoniously jingling together. “I just—Jisung found some weird footage while looking into the city’s CCTV system and some croweyes’ memories—whatever, I need to drive Jeongin to university. I’ll try to find some water refills on my way back, so do not consume any more, please,” he asked, distressed, his eyes glinting with despair, Adam’s apple bobbing, stress shaking his entire form alive.

Changbin’s eyebrows scrunched up with worry and he gulped, throat dry. He nodded mutely, careful with his emotions, the weight of the situation resting incredibly heavily on his shoulders.

“Go. We trust you, hyung,” he rushed out, his cigarette extinguishing itself in a few volutes of ash before descending towards the carpet of snow. “Stop that head of yours. Overthinking is Jisung’s job,” he added, a miserable expression materializing itself on his strong features, and Chan gulped, opening the door and getting ready into the conductor’s seat, the engine roaring to life. 

Jeongin’s gaze met his, as if he pertinently knew what he and his elder brother were planning, and Changbin waved his hand in a friendly manner before the car disappeared in a few violets and blues, the clouds heavy.

Clearing his throat, the criminal closed the HQ’s door behind him, resting his back against the structure for some time, catching his breath.

Jisung was sitting on a ragged pillow, munching on what looked to be spicy chips, fingers furiously typing codes away on the keyboard of his ancestor of a laptop. At least, Chan had gotten rid of the dozens of coffee cups they had lay around the previously abandoned apartment room during the previous days, all the lights turned off, their electricity consumption expired.

“You were too inconscient, Robin Hood. Don’t flatter yourself too much,” Jisung murmured unconsciously, eyes stuck to his screen, and Changbin rolled his eyes while the other resumed crunching on his snack.

“I know, no need to remind me. Those croweyes are such a pain in the ass, I swear. No need to move. They’re constantly glaring down at you,” he complained, and he wiped the snow off his boots on the torn apart rag, making a beeline for the lonely ENP that was resting on the counter, immobile. He downed it dry, the small ‘one’ encrypted on the sink making him cringe, veins hurt. He instantly began feeling lightheaded, hands gripping the wall with force, teeth clenched.

Then, all of a sudden, life looked sunny again, and he joined Jisung, crossing his legs on the floor, trying to comprehend the electronical gibberish his dongsaeng was fabricating.

“’s alright. Most of the memories get erased, anyways. Or nobody visits them. The rich don’t give a shit about useless, brainless vermin. Which is why that Lee dude should not—”

“Okay, okay. We’ve talked about this _way_ too many times, and you’re making me exhausted, Jisung. We _need_ Minho, okay?” Changbin cut him off, thoughtlessly scratching his nape. “Yes, he may be the son of one of the wealthiest CEOs of our society, but he’s loaded, and he knows more than we do, which is the point of him intervening. We need those cars, and you _know_ it. Without everything he’s done for all of us, we wouldn’t be here, and you can’t say that I’m wrong. Besides, he’s really funny, and he’s pretty cool. He’s not snobbish, or anything. Give him a chance, at least.”

“He’s still rich. I don’t trust him,” Jisung mumbled angrily, pressing harder on the keys to confirm his words.

Changbin exhaled, eyes tightly shut, impatience running free in his arteries.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Chan mentioned that you found something…?”

That was all it took for Jisung’ face to brighten with newfound energy, his cheeks full, his eyes overflowing with sparkling motivation, as they did when a new mystery was to solve.

“Yeah! I’m still not sure what’s happening, but I’m still ultra intrigued. Basically, I was going through all the systems’ cards and stuff to make sure you were not fucking up, and as I was about to confirm everything was good with Chan, _this_ appeared, and I’ve been confused and perplexed ever since,” the blonde man spit out with such rapidity Changbin got concerned, his circle-framed glasses gradually slipping down his nose.

The clip played, and Changbin watched, enthralled.

The alleyway was devoid of any individual, like any day, clothes floating to the wind’s rhythm on the clotheslines, footprints stamped in piles of snow, windows broken, bricks dirtied with mold, the orange door, decorated with its famous two, black, vertical lines, welcoming the viewers. Changbin recognized the spot instantly, fearing what was about to happen, and he crossed his arms. One man walked into the frame, and the croweye’s camera zoomed on his face, noting every fine detail down. He had soft eyes, thin lips, a crooked nose and lined eyebrows. His cheeks were bony. Malnutrition, of course. Blue strands were stuck to his forehead, his haircut neat, proper, as the government loved it. He was wearing a black sweatshirt, fingers on his backpack’s straps, tarnished, vintage Convers camouflaging his feet. He looked young, like a student, just like Jeongin, and dread waved over Changbin’s form. A cyan inscription masked the frame for a second, announcing the man’s identity.

“Kim Seungmin, Arts student, orphan, lives on school campus…,” Changbin whispered, seeking for Jisung’s eyes in hopes of finding the answers to his questions. “Isn’t that the Resource? This guy’s definitely a rookie, huh,” he commented, and the other shushed him, pointing at the screen once more.

The rebel, Seungmin, opened the massive door, and a tornado of darkness and snow engulfed him in the Resource.

“Beginners go to the Resource. Everyone knows that. They get caught red-handed in a matter of seconds. Where the fuck are the hawks?”

“Changbin. Look,” Jisung ordered.

After a few moments, the boy re-emerged. But the blue of his hair was missing, and his features seemed entirely transformed. His visage looked… stronger, with straight lines composing his jawline, his glare narrower.

“I mean. He must have hidden in there, and someone else, this new dude, must have taken his place, right?” Changbin uttered, perturbed, question marks flooding the croweye’s system.

“Binnie, you don’t get it. He has the same shoes. The same sweatshirt. Heck, he even has the same backpack. It’s physically impossible to give your clothes to someone else in such little time.”

The video was still rolling, and Changbin went back to it, swallowing his saliva with difficulty, an acid taste spreading on his tongue.

The stranger took notice of the croweye’s piercing gaze, and then everything bugged, explosions of colours filling the screen, before black crowded the pixels and reigned permanently.

Changbin inhaled shakily, fists trembling.

“This Seungmin. He hacked into the croweyes’ memories _and_ metamorphosed himself using either his glasslights or another type of gadget, and I have no clue how the fuck he managed to do that, but I _need_ to know. Once you’re done with this week’s race, we’re tracking him down, _no objection_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- glossary -  
> Croweyes = drones. they ressemble big, flying eyeballs. (kinda look like what biblical angels look like - with the eyes floating around wheels and wings?)  
> Memories = the footage that croweyes save  
> Glasslights = a pair of glasses similar to the google glasses; they basically are a smart phone  
> 'hologramic' = adjective used to describe the way the gadget in question functions. in this case, changbin's clock illuminates its settings out of thin air, just like an hologram  
> HQ = 3racha's headquarters  
> ENP = stands for energizing nutrients pill. it basically makes the stomach of a person believe it's full, thus cuts hunger and thirst. in this case, changbin used one because they barely have any water left in their apartment.  
> Resource = known to be a place where criminals do or elaborate on criminal activity. usually is intensely surveilled or guarded by the government officials (hawks, nighthawks, croweyes, etc.) here, seungmin just.. killed it by hacking in its functions. and as jisung previously mentioned, people don't really check croweyes' memories... (??)
> 
> omg i hope this is not too confusing. it kinda needs to be for the story to present mysteries and intrigue, but still, i understand if it's a lot, so if you have any question, don't be shy to come scream at me [here](https://twitter.com/carottebong)!  
> but yeah ;;; no worries, minho is a good guy! jisung just hates rich kids lol (*cough for now cough*) and yes, they have limited amounts of water, food and electricity. but, jisung works on 'ancient' technology (basically technology from our current times!) because the government does too, since old technology requires much more knowledge and experience and is thus harder to hack than the newer technology). so he can still charge his equipment using wireless chargers lol  
> the rich are more surveilled by the government than the poor.. hmm. must be a reason behind that, right..?  
> okay, that's it for this one! thank you so much for reading!  
> see you soon, i hope! ^^ have a nice day!

**Author's Note:**

> \- glossary -  
> *the story takes place approximately in the 2130s*  
> Asianaion = the entirety of Asia, the continent now grouped as a single country  
> Oceatralia = the entirety of Oceania, the continent now grouped as a single country  
> Oxit = term to reference provinces (which are countries in our own present history period) / for example, Canada would be the Can oxit; therefore, South Korea is the Han oxit  
> Skytrain = a type of subway which connects all the oxits present in Asianaion  
> Glasslights = a pair of glasses similar to the google glasses; they basically are a smart phone  
> Kontroïd = ??? (no result found)  
> Nighthawks = the police officers which work during the night; they usually take care of cases of trespassing (considering there are curfews)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed? anyways, thanks for reading!  
> if you want to, you can always talk to me/scream at me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/lollikpop_)!  
> have a nice day/afternoon/evening and hopefully we'll see each other soon! ^^


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